The Slow Death Of Hope

Don't be mistaken when you read this. Don't think I'm experiencing some existential struggle. I'm simply putting into words some of my personal reflections over recent months. It has occurred to me that I have been in something of a malaise. Struggling to redefine my purpose now that I have two adult kids. This is odd to me as it is not as if I never saw it coming. I had hoped that once certain milestones had been reached I would be able to lean into other aspects of my psyche, explore parts of myself that just got filed under the category of "Maybe one day". Admit it, you've probably done similar. Only then you learn the bleak truth that whilst this can be done, so much depends on the willingness of other's to walk with you in this journey. See, it get's tricky then, because we're not all on the exact same timeline, and we've all got lives full of stuff that you can't just shove to one side to create a new reality. Being a human can be a bit like being a giant tanker ship, which is to say when you've spent years ploughing certain routes the process of turning the ship around isn't the cake walk you might suppose it would be. I'm 52 years old, and in pretty good shape. My body is fit, my mind is agile, and I'm bursting with ideas of how I want to be moving forward. But I also have commitments and responsibilities so I cannot simply switch from one mode into another. If you've read my blog over the years you will note that I often use the term "Being the truest version of yourself". We all have that desire, but if you're a measured and reasonable soul you have to acknowledge that all our personal needs and desires have to be measured against the needs of those closest to us. So I find myself in this weird halfway house. I want to be available to my kids, both of whom are shaping into remarkable young people, and of course my core responsibility is towards my wife Joy. Am I meeting her needs? Am I speaking her love language? Am I willing to lean into the things that matter to her so that she can flourish? And if not why not? What would be stopping me? You know what, I have come to realise that sins of omission are a brutal, crushing force that can destroy all hope. It's crushing because it isn't born of malice, but rather unwitting neglect. Without going into detail I have, for the longest time, carried with me certain hopes. Many discussions have hinted that there are undiscovered pathways to reinvention that can be walked in tandem, but at what point do you simply acknowledge that the reality and the rhetoric are destined not to converge? Pro tip; never, and I mean NEVER judge a person by their words. Words are often used to buy time, as a deflection. Only judge people by what they actually do, or not do. By these metrics you will learn whether they mean what they say or are simply diversions. So what to take away from all of this? Well in my case this is the great question that I have yet to resolve. I know that continuing as I am would be the equivalent of a long, slow death. The hope ebbing from me as I decline into that life of quiet desperation so many men have succumbed to through the ages? Am I really going to be one of those pitiful creatures? Destined to watch my hopes and dreams gurgle down the plughole of practicality? I have no answer right now, but if some good comes from this I am determinded not to be an obstacle to others. If I can meet I need I will. If I need to learn and research something to better understand it I will absolutely do this. The thought of actively contributing to the misery of another when I have the power to alleviate it is horrifying to me. That's a road I cannot walk.